Jason Brody is the Best Tuba Player
by StarlitHorizons
Summary: Marching Band AU; Jason Brody is the Best Tuba Player


Jason Brody thought he was a pretty cool dude. Sure he was, like, twenty two and still a sophmore in highschool, but he was cool anyways. He went a lot of places like islands and whatever, wrestled a lot of tigers, killed a lot of dudes. At least that's what he told everyone whenever they walked within five feet. It was a good life. He was a compulsive liar.

His mom didn't think so, though, because every time he failed his sophmore year (again) they moved. This time they were on an island, which was surrounded by sharks. And by they he meant him, because she'd dumped him in a boarding school and left on a plane. And by dumped, he meant pushed out of the plane. Maybe she was hoping he would land in the sharks. Maybe she didn't even know there was a school there. But there was, and he was apparently a member now.

Because Jason was the coolest kid around, he knew he had to join clubs. So he tried the art club, but they kicked him out when he tried to paint everyone in red and say that he sniped them from afar. Then he tried the football team, but he was too big for any of the uniforms. Then he tried to join ballet, but he fell on one of the girls and broke her left ankle in seven different places. And then he went to the best place of all.

Marching band.

He insisted that he was a master at all arts, and then said he should be the person with the baton thing, so he showed off his skills. They managed to wake him up like, twenty minutes later, and said that he should leave. But then he found a gun in the closet and said that if they didn't give him a position that they'd all be dead meat. They gave him a tuba, but mainly because he was holding the gun the wrong way and they didn't want him to hurt himself. He had a habit of noisily dropping the thing and saying "Fuck" really really loud afterwards, but if the drummers were loud enough it kind of blocked it out, so they still let him join.

They practiced a shit ton and the color guard got really good at secretly hitting him with the flags and covering him up with them with the flay as he fell, and they got good at drowning out his "fucks" and occasional screams of enthusiasm. He never even played the tuba. He just held it and walked around and looked kind of confused, but he loved pep talks.

So one day there was a competition. At least, in Jason's mind, it was the biggest competition, because there was another marching band there, and the main big kid was a guy who looked like he was in his thirties. He also had a tuba, therefore Jason did not like him.

Because he had to be the very best, like no one ever was. To catch them was his real test, to train them was his cause. He had traveled across the land, searching far and wide for tubas, to understand the power that's inside. It was him and himself. It was his destiny. Jason. Oh, that tuba was his best friend in this world he must defend. Jason, a tune so true, his courage would pull him through. It would teach him and he would teach it, Jason. Gotta play them all.

There was more after that, but someone punched him in the face so he had to stop yelling. It was the other kid, and his name was Vaas, and his hair was really cool looking. But he was kind of lame, because he started yelling after stopping Jason, which wasn't very nice at all. He didn't even have rhythm.

"DO YOU KNWO THE DEFINITION OF INSANITY?!" he screamed, and spit flew out of his mouth. It drenched Jason, and now he was soaking wet with insanity spit and his face kind of hurt.

"No, go get a fucking dictionary you weeaboo punk" he said, and Vaas stared at him.

"Yeah, ok, I guess that would be a good idea," he said, and then he went to play with his own band.

Jason turned to the rest of his band members, opened his mouth to start talking, and dropped his tuba. "FUCK. Okay, so, just remember guys, all we gotta do is be better than the Tigers. We gotta be the very best, like no one ever was. To catch them is our real test, to train them-"

Suddenly there were a lot of really loud sounds kind of like screaming babydolls, and everyone looked over. The Tigers had been eaten by their own mascots. Who even brought live tigers to football games. Fucking idiots.

"Oh. Okay. Go team!" Jason cheered, but he was hit in the back of the head with his tuba and died. Vaas stood up from above him, spared by the tiger, apparently. Except not, because he unzipped himself and turned out to be Jason's mom.

"Goddamn lameass nerd, the fucking sharks were supposed to get him," she said, and was then eaten by a tiger. Except the tiger unzipped itself and was actually a shark.

"Holy shit," said one girl. "It's a shark. What the hell."

And then the shark looked at her and unzipped itself. It was actually the first lady, Michelle Obama.

"And that kids is why you stay in schools. Fucking weeaboos, watching anime all the damn time," she said, smiling.

And that was how the Far Crys beat the Tigers in the best display of anything ever. The end.

* * *

**A/N: **I've never played Far Cry. This is for my friend Elise for Christmas, so merry Christmas you fucking weeaboo.


End file.
